It was described in the books and tourist pamphlets as the perfect place to relax, hike, beach walks; practically anything a tourist would find amazing and to their interest. Honestly, most of the time I read about Forks; I began to approach the topic of food utensils. First the thought about the spoon, dipping for the food, in which the word dipping brings me forth to swimming. And I quickly thought through swimming into drowning from my lack of being able to swim. After drowning, I thought of Death, Then Life. And then I was back at the start again, looking at stupid pamphlets.
A bunch of stupid wild thoughts came to mind when I looked outside the window at the blur scenery, the edge of a cardboard box on my left side jarring me out of them. Mom was driving with her hair pulled up in a loose pony tail, her curly blonde hair moving in relative pace to the wind bursting through the open window adding to the constant flow of air. Her hand tightening and then relaxing on the steering wheel as she saw one of the first signs that welcome people to the town.
Pursing my lips a blew a breath of air out of my lips, watching the outside world turn into night, then day, night again. Grassy fields to ocean and green trees for days was getting to me, making me think to much. But…It was a point in my life that I had to live with. But honestly, I didn't mind being a bit glum about it. I was moving, and that was it.
Big whoopee doo da day.
A small smile went to my lips when Mom turned up the radio and began singing to some eighties song that I forget the name yet could feel my throat bordering with song from a small vibrating motion that was waiting to spring forth with music. It stopped immediately when it hit a particular part that I knew nothing about, yet she kept singing and bringing forth her heritage and the time in which she knew well.
Picking at the skin on my fingernails, I grew interested in the passing of the trees, which stopped speeding by at an alarming rate and began to slow to a comfortable pace for sore eyes.
A store was the first subject to my eyes. Mom subtly scanning it in her eyes, letting her foot ease down on the brake while her right hand pulled forward and turned the blinker on. Causing those in the parking lot of the store watch our arrival with weary eyes. Their bodies had slightly taken a stiffer tone from their earlier positions from when they were talking amiably.
Mom stepped out of the car with a slightly frazzled look upon her face as she began walking in the store with a list quickly being pulled from her pocket. The people I noticed by the car right next to me were normal. Normal plain people. The guy with the rounded face and meat on his bones with blonde hair and an attitude that seemed carefree and happy while talking with the girl, who had very dark blonde hair with brown weaving all through it. Her features were rounded also; the only noticeable spot upon her face was a small dent on her cheek.
I felt a stare on me when I was beginning to snuggle into my seat, the edge on the box next to me being flattened by my palm. I looked to the left and saw a police cruiser and a man stepping out with a slightly oversized belly and clean shaven face, the man glanced at me and continued onwards to the store. The kids on my right side were still talking, but were taking glances at the car now. I slinked down in my seat, waiting a few more minutes until their gazes returned to Mom; whose cheeks were slightly flush and she held two plastic bags. One filled with a box of heaven knows what; maybe something easy to heat up, and another with drinks.
Mom looked behind as she turned the key and put her long fingers on the back of the seat; it was then the teenagers caught sight of me and a slight hopeful look emerged on their face. It scared me a little, being the object of attention to them right then, maybe I was to be a saving grace to them in some way that I couldn't even fathom.
The blur of trees happened again and Mom once again began humming.
It was like this until we reached a house that was on the edge of town, a nice walking distance to school and a forest was practically the back yard along with the other houses that were lined up with the house with sea foam green paint on the siding that was beginning to peel along with the white that adorned the window seals and door frame. The yard was a deep green that matched everything around here, dew clinging to anything or everything out in the open. It was weird to see the grass greener than to what I was used too. A sense of longing came over me to feel the wind brush its fingers through my hair and tall grass in the hay fields that I walked through to get to town.
The squeak of Mom's crappy breaks caused my admiration of the slowly falling down house to dance out of my ears and out into the atmosphere. Unbuckling I opened my door, stepping down from the back of the truck, quickly reaching behind me to grab the box that was literally a thorn in my side the entire ride here. It was filled with kitchen supplies and stuff we couldn't have really have put on the movers truck while we stayed at the house for a few more days. I didn't even get to see Mom walk up the driveway, or should I say run up the driveway.
My feet made soft splashing noises in the driveway when I walked up the house, my heart beating from nervousness at the thought of a new place to live in. Mom was already fluttering about like a bird trapped in a house desperately clawing at the walls to find a way out; except she was examining it in a close eye, making sure the movers had done a good job to sort out the furniture in the best possible way and for any damage.
The front doors screen creaked when I opened it, causing a wince to come forth from my face
"Theo! The bedroom upstairs with one window and cream walls is yours!"
I stopped, listening to her mutter and curse as she fiddled with what sounded like our fridge opening and closing. So the kitchen was that way… alright.
Shifting the heavy box in my arms, I went through an open doorway with the sight of Mom hooking up the microwave and setting the clock on it with her phone on the counter, causing a bright light to the dim covering through the room from the old lighting hanging from the ceiling.
"I thought you went to your room and…." She trailed off with seeing me put the box on the counter. "I'll get that, just go to your room and fix things to how you like them."
I looked at her after rubbing my hands from the pressure that was no longer put onto them from the weight. "Alright… are we having some kind of T.V dinners or something?"
She looked at me for a moment. "Yeah, we are… come down in an hour." She turned around and began fiddling with the clock again. I turned away and began walking up the stairs that began to creak under my weight, making me cringe again. "Oh!" And exclamation from inside the kitchen burst through the house. "Make sure to set the clock in your room!"
I nodded to myself and continued the trek. My hand resting on the first door to my left. It was opened to reveal striking white tile bathroom walls. It was closed quickly and my hands reached from another door, finding one window and cream walls. One more room was left and I concluded it was Mom and Dad's room. I didn't bother looking in it yet, and let myself enter my room.
It was a nice cream, suited to maybe look like it was to comfort the person in the room. A bed was placed in the middle of the room, green sheets with flower print covering the mattress, a pillow with a cover adorning lacing on the opening showed.
Huffing slightly I turned around to find that the door closed on its own, great; a heavy door. I put my hands on my hips and began the rearranging. The bed was quick to have it pushed to the left side of the room towards the window, the nightstand slowly joining it. And perhaps almost broken pieces of a lamp until it was hastily caught with my fumbling hands.
The pattering of rain accompanied me as I made to my boxes in the corner. Most were filled with clothes and various pictures of the grassy plains I grew up in. A small smile fitted upon my face at the pictures of the girls and boys in the pictures who knew me since I was born flew upon my eyes and into my brain; letting the memories in which those pictures were a flutter and mutter words of remembrance.
It was a little more than an hour of me hanging pictures on a corkboard when Mom called for me downstairs, the smell of pizzas from boxes floating into my nose. I knew she would most likely pick the pizzas, those are pretty easy to heat up in the microwave, no matter what kind you get. The sound of air rushing out from pop hit my ears in the doorway of the kitchen as Mom delicately ate the pepperoni slice after a quick gulp of her soda. Which was no surprise, .
With a yawn, I sat down with a smile and began chewing eagerly on the plate next to mine with a bottle of root beer next to me. The five minutes that passed was relatively quiet except for the sounds of chewing and rain on the window above the sink.
"So I was thinking of cleaning the house a bit tomorrow, help make it a little bit homey before your Dad gets here; which reminds me… I need to call him to tell him we're here." She muttered the last part to herself as I listened to her quietly, chewing at the slice in my hands, the grease coating the fingertips on my hands.
"I need to ask him something too… Mind if I talk to him when you call him?"
"Yeah.. And we can sign you up for school after or before cleaning house, let's just see what mood I'm in, and then you can start Monday since Friday is tomorrow. So that gives you time to get pencils a binder and backpack all ready, how about that?"
I nodded quickly, talking with food in my mouth. "Yeahhh, the house should be ready then, and we can make it more… homey?"
"Yeah… homey." She whispered with a smile, as if someone would hear us.
"That just sounds like some word that a gang would use." I muttered with a shy smile.
Mom laughed and leaned back in her chair, bringing her shirt up and putting the hem through opening in-between her breasts; creating a type of bikini.
"Yeah Homey, how ya doin down in the dumps?" She paused and looked out the window for a moment, making her hand with the fork look like it was flicking ash off the tip of it. "YO BILL HOMEY, COME HERE!" She yelled.
I burst into giggles, Mom closely following with snort and a huge smile.
When all was said and done, sighs of happiness and contentment filled the air with light conversation until we went to bed.
Hey there to who's reading! Thanks for reading! Crit and comments are welcomed!